


The Stars Around Us

by cupidcheng



Category: LOONA (Korea Band), Stray Kids (Band), The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: A LOT OF EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE, Best Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Lots of kissing, M/M, Pining, Summer Love, Too much fluff, a lot of mariya takeuchi, also he cant talk to anyone for shit. bless his heart, chan is their psychologist, felix is emo, hyunjin and jeongin appear once with their dogs and thats it, jisung’s a hyper 15 year old pls spare his dumbassery, minho has kind of social anxiety i forgot to mention, minho wears skirts sometimes, no smut bc theyre like five, only tw i can think of is a lot of homophobia, set in 2014/2015, slight angst, the worst family problems ever, theres some daddy issues, this was originally written in 2018-2019 by me, yeah they have a lot of problems, younghoon is confusing bad boy but not rlly sorry younghoonie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24452692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidcheng/pseuds/cupidcheng
Summary: Minho’s not sure exactly when it started.It could’ve been from the beginning: the time he was on the sand with a sunburnt boy whose eyes shone brighter than the very sun that scarred him.And it very well could’ve been from Jisung’s birthday, the time Minho’s anxiety had to be a bitch and Jisung gave him a kiss on the cheek.Whatever the time was, however the occasion, his heart made one thing obvious: he was in love and sickeningly so at that.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Choi Hyunsuk, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Jeon Heejin & Kim Hyunjin, Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hello :) ! hope u enjoy this mess that im currently still editing. it’s about 85k / 35 chapters

JULY SEVENTH  
TWENTY FOURTEEN

It was the middle of summer for Lee Minho, a boy who had grown up in a large city with sirens ringing in his ears every second of the day. The day after they came back from their flight to America for the Fourth of July— _dear God was American culture pointless, they just needed an excuse and his mother used to celebrate it as a child_ —it was like the walls of their ugly expensive apartment were caving in on him. Flashes of red and blue—bloodstains or red wine, he didn't bother to figure out, and the bluebirds who decided it would be nice to build a nest on their balcony—were the last things he saw until he blacked out.

 _What are we going to do?_ The woman had fretted to herself, traditional red and tan Chinese fan waving back and forth in front of her with mascara streaming down her wrinkled face. She hesitantly stood up with the support of her office chair, picking up one of her high heels to throw at the glass of her most precious china collection. The sound rang throughout the apartment, so loud that the bluebirds stopped their constant chirping.

Even louder, her wails were enraging with the bang of a door being rid of its hinges. They made beautiful music together with the crowds protesting outside about equal women's rights! and whatever political nonsense they descended upon that hot evening.

Mr. Lee was back from work, and to say he was unhappy was like taking your child's Halloween candy and expecting them to say thanks to the lord instead of whining their little heads off. 'Twas an _understatement_ , out of all things, but he would get punched in the eye for knowing what the correct term for it was. good thing his son was already blacked out on the carpet— _Wait.. why was no one taking him to the emergency room?_

"He fired me, Soon, for our vacation last week." 

Silence. It was expected from Minho’s mother, but he was once again out of it on the messed up carpet with whatever red stuff had been spilled on it.

She smiled.

It didn't look all too real. It was perhaps more devilish than angelic, with those pearly whites of hers, shining so bright that even a blind person felt winded by them.

"But—but surely he's joking? You told me he didn't need you with all the new workers so he gave a week off. That did happen, right? _Right?_ " The woman was nearly shaking his whole body for approval.

Minho’s mother was scary, but she was an angel compared to his father. Sadly, the man was no different in hurting Minho than with his wife. Worse actually, and anyone couldn't help but to grimace only by hearing the things he said to her, much less what he did.

"Are you calling me a _fucking liar_ , Soonkyu?"

She stopped clutching her high heel and threw it across the room near the one that had destroyed her not-so-glamorous-anymore china. The middle-aged man mustn't have noticed, or else he would've been screaming. He had the face of an angry businessman when he wasn't mad, but it was even worse when he was.

Yet, he was a construction worker. A boss at a big company, supposedly. He always pointed out big towers his crew had worked on whenever they went on trips, which was why he had been gone for most of Minho’s life; the man was gone more often than not, staying in one city at a time and paying too much for chicken waffles at a local diner than helping to pay taxes.

How they ever got money, it was up to the top man of the house. Lee Soonkyu was a woman who often spent time to herself when not worrying over her nearly 16-year-old son, working long shifts at different convenience stores around the block and selling things online. Minho babysat sometimes for the kids in the neighbouring apartments, but that was pretty much it. Most of the time he wasn't allowed near kids, just because his parents gave everyone a bad first impression.

Without Minwoo, they would be living on the streets or out in the country with cows. Minho wasn't too sure he liked the latter, but it would, of course, be the better alternative. As the boy gained consciousness after the familiar shouts of husband-and-wife, he arose to realise that his nightmares were closer to being true.

_But anything beats being stuck in this hellhole of a home, with no friends and no voice of my own. Maybe the country could give me freedom, like a Studio Ghibli character._

_Am I okay? That was the dumbest thing I've thought of in a while. And I think a bit too much about everything._

"We can't afford rent, Minwoo. What the fuck are we going to do? You can't just expect to get another job when there are no construction businesses anywhere near here! And don't remind me that all you have is a disgusting high school degree to live off of."

"And you're a high school dropout who had a fucking—"

"Don't you _dare_ bring him up."

There was a light chuckle let out by the man after the last words, knowing he was pushing her buttons a bit too far, even for him. "So it's a 'he' now, huh? Last time, you just said you were glad it was only the second month in."

"Not. The. Point. We don't have time for this. I can't believe you'd do something so goddamned irresponsible. We'll have to pack our bags by tomorrow—"

She was cut off by the opening of another door, the front one, to be exact. Minho could've played a guessing game for kids about who this mystery person was, but it was all too perfect to not be the landlord. He had come over several times to warn the Lees about noise complaints from other neighbours, but this time he would be mad for a different reason.

That was all he remembered from that early July day. It was dreadful, but he had hope that he could start over. That's all he had ever wanted, was to start over. He wouldn't be known as the _weird kid_ who stumbled over his words and couldn't look someone directly in the eyes because he could change before school got back and no one would know the difference.

The next week, they were in the provinces of nowhere and Minho swore it was hotter than any trip to America he had ever been. But on the first day, that's when _nowhere_ became _somewhere_ for him.

Minho’s mother chose from 12 different bottles of sunscreen for her child, looking back at the labels with a frown each time she read into them further. Not only was she a hoarder, but she was an indecisive one who got ten different versions of one thing because she was never too sure at the store which one to get. No, she never returned anything back, and most likely would argue that she wouldn't have to spend money for more because she had so many. Someone must've never told her that buying too many was already a waste of money in the first place, but she'd probably find an excuse for that one, too. She always found a way.

He only wanted to go down to the beach for god's sake. It was different for him to be anywhere near one when it wasn't the yearly trip to a different country, and he was looking forward to it after the long train ride at night with the lit-up city to a pitch black ghost town apart from the lights across every lawn, looking like it was Christmas in July.

It was morning now, and it was understandable that he didn't give two fucks about whether his nose would get sunburnt or not. People liked Rudolph, right? It'd be a perfect first impression; meet new people, maybe earn a friend or two along with it, and the neighbours wouldn't hate him.

Did he even have neighbours? He wasn't too sure. The first thing he did when they got every bag from the van was run inside, only to be met with peeling walls even worse than the ugly ones from their old apartment. It was a downgrade, somehow. The whole place looked like it had been dusted by a ghost, so much dust particles and dust bunnies that he sneezed five times in a row, and his IPod had nowhere to be charged into except for the plug-ins in the bathrooms. All the ones in the bedrooms were covered over by the beds, which was one of the worst decisions he'd ever seen in designing houses.

Basically, he didn't observe his surroundings too well and got lost along the shoreline. He had seen what the beach looked like in Jeju and many other places in Korea and around the world, but this one was different. He felt captivated by the calm waves and even more captivated by the absence of people and their plastic waste. The water was warm, warmer than the water he had felt the week before when he was back in California, as he stuck his toes in and let the ends of the waves wash in with shells.

And then, there was a boy. One who looked similar to the boy's age, maybe a bit younger. He had sunglasses on with an obvious sunburn around the glasses, tank top on with casual shorts and his arms crossed. It was just him: no blanket, chair, or anything, taking in the heat of the sun from his back and letting sand get in his hair.

For some reason, for some _dumb_ , nonsensical reason at the back of Minho’s head, he felt obliged to lie down beside him. It could've been the fact that this was the first person he had seen at this place other than the movers, or it could've been the fact that he was quietly enjoying something he would've normally taken for granted if he had still lived back in the apartments and was only on some dumb excuse of a family-bonding journey.

But he didn't expect for the boy to wrap his arm around him, leaning his head onto his shoulder before internally agreeing with himself that Lee Minho’s shoulder was comfortable enough for him to bury his face into. Perhaps it was just because his face was burning and he wanted to cover it from the sun without sticking his face in the sand? That was plausible.

That's when Minho started to laugh nervously. That nervous laughing led to something he'd rather not share out loud—coughing that always turned into his eyes watering and losing his breath just to wheeze hysterically.

"You okay?" This boy just turned his head towards him, giving him a curious look, but one you'd give someone you've known for ten years laced with actual concern. It was funny, really, how this boy was behaving to Minho. He didn't even know his name or if he was from the area.

He stared for a moment when he finally cough his breath, unsure of why his cheeks were heating up after the boy had watched him so intently. "D-d-definitely. Yeah. Just peachy." Giving a small thumbs up, the boy with a head full of blue curls just gave him a nod to the head before he snuggled back into the crook of Minho’s neck.

"You're warm," he pointed out, but Minho had shivers go down his spine from the boy's lips against his neck. He wasn't sure why he was reacting the way he was, but it was all too familiar for him to be okay with.

But for some reason, he just sat there and sputtered out a dumb response somewhere of, "Really? I'm covered in sand."

Sand boy must've laughed for a full minute, his almond-coloured eyes even brighter than they had before. He lightly slapped the other boy's back before lying back down beside him. "That's a nice observation, cutie, since we're lying down in sand and all."

Minho’s heart was soaring like the girls in his dumb romance novels whenever their prince did some heroic deed and claimed them as the love of their life. It soared like the fireworks he had watched from the beach on the night of July 4th with a princess blanket wrapped around his arms and his head leaning against his mother's. Did this boy feel the same thing he was feeling? Chills ran down his spine at the thought.

He made his first friend that day, Han Jisung, and he became the reason Minho didn't mind being stuck in the middle of nowhere with arguing parents readying for a divorce and the absence of enough money to get rid of the bad walls and mice making their rooms in them.


	2. First Day of Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another mess i apologize
> 
> here’s a little trigger warning before it starts: this part talks a bit about bullying/violence (bruises, cuts) so u can skip the first few paragraphs if u want

JULY FIFTH  
TWENTY FIFTEEN

"The first day of summer break.. _heck yeah!_ ” A cute Han Jisung shouted— _well, close to shouting, considering the fact that the boy had never once actually shouted in his lifetime_ —an even cuter smile playing at his lips as Minho grinned back with only a little less enthusiasm.

First day of summer break for Han Jisung of 2015 meant: only two more months until his first day in high school which would lead to the inevitable: him finding out about what’s been happening to Minho. Finding out about the cuts and bruises not just from himself, but from the boys at school who found out that he sometimes wore makeup and liked "feminine" things.

Jisung would look for the purple and red bruises on Minho's stomach that he so desperately tried to hide, and then he'd try and do something about it. And that, well, that never helped anyone except in happy fantasy tales.

The younger boy skipped cheerfully, not noticing Minho's somewhat bitter mood. The older trudged on rather awkwardly beside him, his hands not knowing where to go before they decided to ultimately rest behind his back. They continued like that for the rest of the way to Jisung's house, which was about a 5 minute drive away from Minho's. Minho had always made a joke about how Jisung's neighbourhood was literally him. From the birds constantly chirping to how lively everything was, including the baby blue sky that Jisung took photos of with his old camera. Jisung's favourite colour was that type of baby blue or a mintish colour, but it really depended on his mood. If he was happy, he'd associate everything with yellow, or if he was sad, it'd be back to blue, but more of a navy blue. He wouldn't necessarily describe things in colours, but it was occasional that he'd say feeling purple instead of using 'scared'. And since the summer before, Minho had picked up all the small details about Jisung that he learned to love and appreciate more than anything else in the world. How Jisung's eyes would twinkle so brightly when he came up with a smart idea, to how he'd have a faint blush when minho would call him cute names.

While, to say the least with Minho's neighbourhood, it truly was the complete opposite of Jisung's, which only fit his rather bitter personality. His mother constantly yelled at him for unknown reasons, his father was only ever home if he forgot something for work, and everyone else in their neighbourhood was just like them. The birds were never out, nor were any animals of that matter. Everything was so dull and monotone and Minho _hated_ it. He hated everything he'd come home to; his mother arguing with his father on the phone about how he was never home, he hated how the walls were thin that he heard everything from the mice to the shattering of whatever his mother had decided to break at that moment, and he hated feeling so alone. It seemed like everything had gone to pieces when Minho's father had been fired the summer before right after taking a week off to go to america with him and his mother, and Minho longed for there to be at least a minute where he and his parents could talk nicely and share how their day had been, just like normal families typically would.

"I think you should paint your nails the colour of my braces," Jisung concluded once he jumped onto the porch of his sickeningly happy yellow and white house with the birds chirping not too far. It was a hot July day, to say the least, and kids everywhere in the neighbourhood could be seen in the backyards on the trampoline or playing in the sprinklers. Like _normal kids_ the simple title of which Minho was sure he couldn't be included in for too many reasons.

And now, that may seem a random thing for Han Jisung to say, but it wasn't unexpected. Squirrel boy had gotten his braces two months after Minho moved in twenty fourteen, and since his love at the time was the baby blue, he decided on that (even if his favourite colour was red only the day after). The only thing odd about that request, to Minho, was the fact that Minho didn't have any nail polish of his own, nor did he exactly fancy asking his mum for any—or, rather, steal some and her notice and then kick him out for two long months of scalding hot agony.

Yet, Jisung’s immediate response to all that bitterness would be, _"Well, I'll just get you some, of course!"_ because he was so persistent to having his friend try new things and Minho just couldn't resist his adorableness.

Because of knowing that, he agreed with a sigh and took his phone out to call his mum and ask if he could stay the night at Jisung's. After three tries while standing in the hot and sure to get a sunburn because he was wearing a small white teeshirt with shorts and the sun was just beaming down at him from where he was standing (his mum had some stupid rule that he couldn't even step place in a house without calling her and he was terrified of his mother to the point that he believed she could be watching him from anywhere—oh no, how dare he misbehave!—and he really couldn't afford to risk anything—two months of scalding hot agony, remember?—), the phone was picked up and Minho really wished his mother could've at least given him a warning before she started yelling about how grown up he was (must've realised Minho was with someone and therefore, she had to act nice. still couldn't manage to pipe down a bit, though, which was rather stupid and indecisive at times, but hey, he could only dream of better hearing).

After about two minutes of listening to his mother rant about how grown-up he was ( _Oh wow, graduating 10th grade! What an accomplishment, but to be fair, it was a surprise to him too, Mrs. Lee!_ ) he hung up and gave Jisung some type of tired smile.

"She said yes?" Those words meant nothing to Han Jisung since he had already taken Minho's hand and drug him into the lively house, but he still nodded in response anyway.

The first time that Minho had visited the Hans' household was for Jisung's birthday party of 2014, which was full of many first times for Minho: a first time at a friend's birthday (but also his first and only friend), a first-time at someone's house, in general, that wasn't included in his many aunts and uncles' pointless parties. It was also a first time of being kissed on the cheek by a cute boy that resembled a squirrel, and the first time Minho truly felt at home.

Though Jisung only had an older brother that was away in college and a baby brother at the age of one, the house was very 'we're a nice and happy family that love our kids!' type of house like was seen in any 90s shows like 'Full House' that Minho binge watched as a child since that was the only thing ever on cable after school.

And oh did Minho wish he lived in a Mary Kate and Ashley film—not particularly Double, Double, Toil and Trouble, but you get the point here.

The Hans' household consisted of his mother, his father, and his baby brother that had been born the summer before; only a week before him meeting his best friend, which would be the week Minho's family were in America, living like a normal family for only so long. He had met Jiwon, the older brother, at Jisung's fourteenth birthday party, but that was the last and only time.

Every room had a different pastel colour and the boy envied how cool everything was arranged. Jisung had joked once before that their house was a literal rainbow but his father had given him a weird stare and he never brought it up again.

Anyway, moving on....

As soon as they were about to make it up the stairs without being bombarded with questions from the mother that was humming loudly in the kitchen, she glanced over and started doing the exact thing.

"How was the last day of school?" "Oh, I can't believe how much you've grown up, dear!" She didn't take a breath before her next gushing sentence, "You too, Miinho. Wait, let me get a picture and post this to Facebook, you two really are the cutest." Minho wanted to run away but Jisung was still latching onto his hand and his friend's mother wouldn't have appreciated his escape plan— _that didn't stop him from resenting Facebook and everything surrounding it, including pictures of him being on there so old ladies could comment on how cute of a boy he was_ —and after a full minute of the fakest smiling that he could do for some dumb Facebook post, Jisung pulled him up the stairs without answering any of the questions his own mother had thrown at him, meaning he was finally free.

Since Minho had been to his best friend's house too many times to count, he knew how everything would work there: he'd get some of the clothes that Jisung had complained being too big for him (it was still big on Minho since he was barely two centimetres taller and the same height but Jisung was nowhere near complaining), play rock paper scissors with Jisung on who would get to shower first, and then brush his teeth with the Hello Kitty toothbrush Jisung had bought him. After that, there were no top and tails or 'you're the one taking the couch!' because they both agreed on the fact that cuddling was always the greatest option, even if it was the summer—their house was always cold, anyway. Jisung had so many onesies and jumpers and that would be impossible at Minho's house.

"You think I should ask Mum for nail polish or just ask for money to buy some secretly?" That was the first sentence that was spoken after they walked up the stairs and entered Jisung's room full of collector's items on shelves and stuffed animals either on his bed or somewhere on the floor. His room was, once again, overall more lively than Minho's. The other boy's room was a boring grey with some paint that was peeling off because his father never bothered with fixing his room up after they moved and didn't bother with the 'mice problem'.

Jisung was still holding onto his hand, but they had both gotten so used to it that neither of them seemed to notice as they sat on the bed with a large and annoyingly yellowish-orange-brown 'Ryan' character staring at them. Minho had to think about his words for a moment before forming a proper response.

"l don't see why this is such an important topic to discuss." He was going to fold his arms and huff to show annoyance but he also didn't want to let go of Jisung's hand because he felt sort-of calm when their hands were intertwined, so he just looked around the room with the cool things that his boring room could never even begin to compare to.

Jisung glared, but it wasn't intimidating because it still ended in him being an adorable mess all over again. "I don't see why not! I think your hands would look even cuter with your nails painted baby blue."

"My hands are cute?" Minho tilted his head to the side in confusion. He had never heard someone call hands cute.

"Y-yeah, they're really small and nice to hold, so—"

"My hands aren't small! Like, I'm taller than you so I don't see why they'd be smaller." Minho frowned and Jisung only shook his head, a faint rosy blush on his cheeks as he looked away. He hoped for a split second that his hands weren't getting sweaty, but if they were, the other seemed to take no notice so he only continued with a little bit more confidence.

"Hyung, your hands are small. Even smaller than Felix's! You remember Felix, right? He's the boy who's one day younger than me. His hands are like, really really tiny." Minho didn't seem to agree with this so he just shook his head even more and Jisung's face turned even more red by the second, for some reason.

"I'm not sure why you can't accept the fact that your hands are small and cute." Jisung wouldn't keep eye contact with him for a second longer and decided to let go of his hand to pick up his giant stuffed plushie of the yellow-orange-brown bear that Minho despised with all his heart. Letting out a huff of annoyance, he scooted over to the other side of the bed that was already way too small in the first place.

The boy scowled dramatically. "Do you care more about Ryan than me now? Hmph." They continued to bicker for at least a good ten minutes before they came to the shared conclusion that Minho's hands were indeed small and that Ryan wasn't so bad after all.

_Jisung, two. Minho, zero. Woohoo!_

"What time is it?" Minho asked only after snuggling up with another one of Jisung's stuffed plushies from when he was a child and messing up the covers. Staring at him for a few seconds before comprehending anything, as if his whole mind'd gone blank, he took the time to reply.

"5:30, which gives us plenty of time to go to the store for nail polish." Jisung grinned and tried his best to drag Minho out of the bed. After a few tries, he gave up trying to drag him and just sighed in defeat, walking to the other side and lying down beside him.

"You're really stubborn." Minho's eyes were closed but he cracked a smile that Jisung wished he could capture with a camera (alas, his ipod was broken and he didn't have his camera with him), but only sighed in content as he wrapped an arm around him and dug his face into the crook of Minho's neck like he had the day they had met.

"Tomorrow? I promise—"  
"Fine."


	3. Baby Blue Nail Polish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaa i’m so sorry this is a few days late. i’ll update a few chapters today to make up for it :)
> 
> looking back at this, i actually love how i wrote this chapter. considering it was around 2018 when i wrote it, i’m not cringing as much as i thought it would when redoing this part!

JULY FIFTH  
TWENTY FIFTEEN

The night prior had consisted of a very clingy and sleepy Lee Minho, as to which Jisung wasn't going to begin to complain about, but he would've also wanted the words 'do anything for his best friend' in his 'sleepy drunk state', as he would call it, but he was stuck with a stubborn boy who didn't even want to go and brush his teeth!

After changing into the baggy white sweater and large black shorts that were too big for Jisung but looked overly adorable on Minho, he had disagreed to brushing his teeth and said that he was too tired to do anything over than sleep, so Jisung had to quite literally drag him to his bathroom and force him to do it. After that, he dragged him back and threw him on the floor, ready to jump in to bed before he realised that Minho was already asleep on the floor. Being the kind human he was, he picked him up—with difficulty, of course—and laid him back onto the bed and cuddled up next to him.

Despite sleeping in the same bed many times over the past year, Jisung had found that he always fell asleep before Minho and the older was always up before him, too. He had never had the chance to study Minho's face as he slept—of course, no weird stalker mode or anything—or the chance to know that he talked in his sleep, which he found even more adorable. Most of the words he said, however, he was unable to understand, but he did hear his name once or twice. Jisung stared only a second longer before quietly getting out of bed to grab his camera. Sure, he'd be considered weird, but he could care less. 

Cameras were meant to take pictures of beautiful things and Lee Minho was ethereal in his eyes, despite him well knowing that every part of his mind yelled for him to not fall in love, because falling in love with a boy was not acceptable for a boy like Jisung, and pain would only be sure to come after that.

Many minutes after tripping on his own feet because it was so dark in the house, Jisung managed to grab his old camera and made his way up the stairs without falling on his face. He let out a sigh of relief when he made it back in the room and tiptoed over to their bed to take a picture that was sure to never be able to mask how beautiful Lee Minho truly was. And before he could even take the picture, Minho reached up and grabbed onto his arm, but still seemingly asleep. Jisung almost fell back onto the bed with his camera but contained his balance with Minho still grabbing onto his arm, and took the photo. He placed the camera on the small table beside the bed and decided upon waiting until the morning to do anything else. As he curled back up next to Minho, he heard his name come from Minho's lips, the boy then furrowing his eyebrows together and looking as if he was trying to concentrate on something before he started practically shivering. Shaking his head and scooting over to pull the blanket up farther, wrapping his arms back around him like they had been earlier, the boy fell asleep with a smile on his face as he rested his head on Minho's back.

As per usual, Minho was already up brushing his teeth by the time Jisung had awoken and started stretching his arms. He only faintly remembered how beautiful Minho had looked when he was asleep and thought upon asking something nonchalantly.

"Did you have any dreams about me last night?" Okay, so maybe not the best sentence starter or the best way to 'secretly pretend you weren't staring at them as they slept just because they were beautiful'. Minho turned back to him, his cheeks stained a rosy pink as he shook his head 'no' vigorously.

"N-no! Why would I have dreams about you?" His eyes were widened and Jisung couldn't help but to giggle at his reaction.

"Hmm.. well, I just heard you saying my name a few times and it was like you had a nightmare or something, that's all," Jisung singsonged before getting up and grabbing clothes to change in to since he was still sticking to the plan of going out to get nail polish and whatnot.

Minho narrowed his eyes and spoke quietly, "I-I have nightmares sometimes, no big deal." By the way he had been shaking, the other boy didn't take it as 'no big deal'.

Jisung, whose hand had been on the doorknob to the bathroom, opened the door and threw his clothes in there before he walker over to Minho and sat down on the bed next to him, he grabbed the hand that was so much smaller than his, admiring how his hand looked in his.

"It's easy to tell that these nightmares scare you. Would you like to talk about it?" Jisung squeezed his hand and Minho stared down at them.

"N–no, it's fine. I usually only have them when I'm sleeping alone, this was just an exception." His breath was almost as shaky as his hands were, Jisung's eyes softening immediately.

"What was it about?" Minho's cheeks were rosy red when he looked away before he quietly responded, "It was just.. you left me. Or, I left you and I couldn't find my way back. I was so alone—and freezing. It was _terrible_ , Ji."

Jisung did something unexpected, even for him. He moved his arm to rest on Minho's shoulder while the other caressed the older's cheek. He tilted Minho's chin up to where they could make eye contact. The raven-haired boy's stare was shy and fidgety as he looked back into Jisung's eyes.

"Listen, okay? You will never be alone. I will always be there and if that means me being literally everywhere you are, then I'll do just that." Jisung could get lost in his eyes and if it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared so much.

He cursed himself for being so damn in love. He cursed himself for rubbing his thumb along Minho's soft skin and cupping his cheek, and he cursed himself for leaning in and filling in the gap between them, _the sun and the moon_ , but Minho shone brighter than any star to exist.

He hadn't expected Minho to kiss back, nor had he thought he would look up with a shy smile instead of jumping up and running away like Jisung had feared. He had never kissed a boy (or anyone, of that matter) but Minho's lips tasted sweeter than anything he had ever tasted and it left him wondering if he was allowed to want more of it.

It seemed like a whole eternity of blushing and hopeful glances before any of the two spoke. "Do you.. do you want to go get some nail polish now?" Minho asked with a small laugh at the end and Jisung was sure he was giving the older boy heart eyes at that moment.

"Sure!" Jisung stood up and went to the bathroom and changed into an orange shirt with green and black shorts. Minho had already stolen some of his clothes that were on top of his wardrobe from the night before. They both started to walk down the creaky stairs when Jisung ran back up to grab his camera, remembering the photo he had took.

It had developed rather well, considering that it had been taken at night with an older camera. After shutting his door, he walked back down to where Minho was and waved the photo in his face.

"You took a picture of me sleeping?!" The boy shrieked and Jisung nodded proudly, trying to act confident for at least once in his lifetime.

"You looked really adorable, too. I'll hide it in my secret shrine." Minho's eyes were the size of the moon as Jisug fell to the ground laughing.

"I'm _joking_ , hyung. I really don't have a shrine but.." he trailed off with an evil grin. "—but that is a great idea for my future summer activities." Minho's eyes were still wide as he watched Jisung in disbelief before shaking his head and walking out the door.

They had agreed to splitting their own money on the nail polish in the end. It was about a ten minute walk to the store that was ultimately as happy as the rest of the neighbourhood with its bright lights and colours with all it's summer items outside.

Jisung's hand was in Minho's, but no words were exchanged, only glances that could mean nothing but everything at the same time. It was less hot than the day before, but he still feared getting a sunburn. The summer of 2014 was full of sunburns that hurt like hell. Yeah, Jisung was notorious for that, yet he still never learned.

The two boys had walked silently, Jisung's mind only on how Minho's lips were so soft and how they reminded him of candy canes in a way. Minho, however, was confused. He didn't understand any of it, and the familiarity of it was unsettling.

Were friends supposed to kiss and never talk about it and pretend it never happened? And, was it wrong for him to be wanting more? He kept on replaying the memory in his mind until they reached the way-too happy store.

Minho immediately let go of his friend's hand, the latter frowning but saying nothing. He walked right past the gummi bears that he would have normally beg Jisung to get, and the said boy just walked behind him, confusion evident on his face.

"What colour?" There was a sudden coldness in his voice and it led Jisung's mind to start racing with questions that he wasn't going to get and the possible answers he could have gotten for them. The boy with the fluffy brown hair looked around at the choices and picked the colour that was closest to his braces.

"I brought extra money, y'know. I could get—" Minho shook his head before Jisung could even finish his sentence.

He was scared endlessly because of Minho's behaviour. He had hoped Minho would take the kiss in a good way, and it initially had seemed like it. Har he changed his mind?

Some of the thoughts he had scared himself.

After they paid and got out of the store that was beginning to suffocate him, Minho didn't reach out for Jisung's hand, and Jisung didn't grab for his.

He figured it would have been better that way, anyway.


	4. Teases & Nail Painting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we introduce good ol’ channie boy!
> 
> in all this chapter isn’t the most entertaining so i apologize if it is boring but it’s Somewhat Needed to start the plot off

JULY SEVENTH  
TWENTY FIFTEEN

Minho had not felt so alone since the day his father got fired and came home yelling at them to pack their bags. His mother had yelled countless times that he'd gotten used to it. But, that stopped occurring when they moved and the boy's father was home less and less until he saw him barely once a month. Jisung's house had been more of a home than his own had ever been when he started coming home after school. He began to stay more and more until he almost forgot about the absent father, the mother who didn't have the heart to appreciate anything anymore, and the suffocating mucky yellow peeling walls.

But even with being in the same room with Jisung, he felt alone. Like there really had been an invisible barrier. The barrier told him he should've distanced himself from Jisung and he figured he should've listened because he needed to clear his thoughts and with Jisung constantly entering them, he seriously couldn't think properly otherwise.

He had known to not mention the kiss. It was another simple, invisible barrier that had one simple, invisible rule and Minho hadn't planned on breaking it. And not until a few hours after they got back from shopping to get the nail polish and were on Jisung's bed, he had followed it.

Minho wasn't normally a sleepy person, and the only time he found himself able to sleep was when he was in Jisung's arms. That day, though, he was tired as hell and was close to falling asleep on his own until Jisung plopped down beside him and started playing with his fingers, which wasn't really anything unusual.

However, when he turned his head, Jisung did too. He lay there, staring at the eyes that were ever so close to his. He made the mistake of looking down at Jisung's lips and then back up. Jisung was smiling slightly as he intertwined their fingers.

"I thought you couldn't sleep without me," he teased lightly. Minho kept switching his gaze from Jisung's eyes to his lips, not sure of which to focus on.

"I-I was really sleepy." Minho almost winced at his own words. He hated how much he stuttered and looked so weak, but Jisung seemed to enjoy every second of it.

He moved one hand over so he could run the pad of his thumb against the boy's bottom lip. Minho's breath hitched as his own eyes closed and just hoped for the best.

The boy was only met with silence for a few moments before he opened his eyes. Jisung was still there, staring at his lips.

"Did you want to kiss me again?" He must've really enjoyed teasing Minho, but the older didn't fail to notice the glint of hope that lasted in his eyes for just a glimpse.

"Yeah." Minho tried to keep his cool but inside, he was dying to know if Jisung really felt the same.

The same? 

_What do I even feel, exactly?_

That reply left Jisung stunned but he nodded and before the boy with dark-as-night hair even knew it, he felt a pair of lips meet his as Jisung snaked an arm around the back of his neck and pulled him closer until their noses were almost touching.

It was like Minho had been frozen in ice for at least a minute before he did anything. He stared into the eyes that had been watching him worriedly before he shook his head and buried his face into his hands.

"I'm so confused right now." Jisung sat back up, unsure of what to do. He feared that hugging and hand squeezing and finger kissing wouldn't work so he only backed away, his head hung.

"Y–you're not going to leave me, are you?" In all his almost fifteen years of life, Jisung had never heard someone sound so broken. He wanted to hold Minho and let him cry his heart out as he combed his soft hair with his fingers, but he was hesitant to do anything in case minho would retaliate.

And yet, it had been Minho who crawled onto his lap, burying his head in his chest as Jisung ran his hands through the boy's black hair. The boy sobbed his heart out until he no longer had tears left to cry and wrapped his arms back around Jisung and enjoyed the warmth.

"I–it's been just so fucking hard. My feelings are all mixed up, I don't know what to think anymore." Han Jisung was so sure that no one could ever look pretty when they cry, but on his fourteenth birthday party, Minho had gotten lost in the house and found his way to Jisung's room and started crying. Tears running down his face, yet he still looked ethereal.

He had held him just like that, and he wondered if Minho was being reminded of that day, too. Glancing back up to wipe his tears, his lips curved into what could be considered a smile.

"This is our one year anniversary, you know." Minho was still burying his head in Jisung's chest, but he nodded.

He took his hand and kissed the top of it, Minho giggling as he did so.

Over one year of getting to know Minho, the other boy found that his laugh was the cutest thing about him. Even his cute facial features and his small hands couldn't mask how adorable his laugh was. Although it wasn't annoying, Minho had said it was an insecurity of his because other people made fun of him for it, and it had broken Jisung's heart. His laugh was contagious and could cheer his friend up no matter what.

"Would you like for me to paint your nails in honour of our one year of knowing each other anniversary?" Minho's eyes lit up as he heard the words and detached himself from the boy, jumping back off the bed to grab the nail polish.

"Minnie, we are not painting your nails on my bed. I don't trust you nor do I trust myself to not get nail polish everywhere." Minho pouted but complied and sat down on the floor next to the white desk with the polaroids everywhere on it. Jisung sat beside him and opened it up, careful not to spill anything. He got up to grab an old book that he had read many times and sat the nail polish on top of it, not really minding if it would spill.

Listen, Han Jisung was not very experienced with painting people's nails, and he would never claim that he was if you asked. He had only painted his nails once and it had been two years prior. In fear of the new friends seeing them and making fun of him, he never did it again. Not that he'd think they would make fun of him, but he was still cautious.

He tried as carefully as he could to not mess up. After holding out Minho's hand in at least five different angles, he frowned when he couldn't decide where to start. Minho watched with a sigh and then told him to start with his pinky. The boy bickered more to himself before doing so, taking his slow time on it.

And after two hours, everything was done. And Jisung had been completely right about them being cuter because not only did his small hands look cute, but the baby blue nail polish only added to the adorableness. The boy had felt that he did a rather nice job on them, only failing about two times and redoing it afterwards. Jisung felt accomplished as he walked over to his desk to get the camera that would take the picture. He grinned from ear-to-ear when he got the results, but he stopped Minho from grabbing the photo in fear of his nails messing up.

"You have to wait like, ten minutes," Minho whined even more but began to smile when he saw the picture. "They look so pretty, oh my gosh. Thank you so much!" Jisung had known that Minho would have that exact reaction only because the boy had shared one night (when he thought Jisung was asleep) that he liked feminine things but was too scared of what he'd think. It had been sometime around October of twenty fourteen, which was also around the time Jisung had mentioned something about makeup for a Halloween costume. He remembered trying not to smile that night and began to gradually hint at knowing the information many times by buying him more and more "cute" and "girly" things as time went by.

For the rest of the day, they listed ideas for what they could do to have the perfect summer. Jisung wrote everything down in a notebook whilst Minho either stared at his nails or at him. They hadn't come up with anything too interesting, but they had both agreed on binge-watching their favourite Studio Ghibli films. Minho was ecstatic about the films, his all-time favourite being Spirited Away, while Jisung leaned more towards Kiki's Delivery Service because of how cute and nostalgic it was. The older could go on and on about how No-Face was the best character to ever exist, and Jisung would always listen to him ramble on about it because he loved how excited he would get when talking about it.

"Okay, so we're going to rewatch our favourite Disney movies too, right?" Minho also loved Disney movies with all his heart and would not stand someone insulting them. Jisung, particularly enjoying when they watched movies because Minho would want to cuddle even more and wouldn't exactly notice if Jisung started giving him soft kisses because he was too invested in the plots, agreed.

It was already ten o'clock by the time the two had gotten all the movies they were going to watch (Disney: The Aristocats, Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast, Lilo and Stitch, and Tangled. Studio Ghibli: Princess Mononoke, Howl's Moving Castle, Ponyo, Spirited Away, My Neighbour Totoro, and Kiki's Delivery Service) out and sat them all on the desk that had polaroids and pieces of paper with no words on them.

Minho sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone, sighing when he realised he had gotten over ten miscalls from his mother. With those ten miscalls, he had also gotten over fifty text messages just from her. The boy's eyes widened when he got an instagram direct message from a boy at his school.

Chan, the boy in the same grade as Minho that everyone loved, had messaged him. It took him almost two full minutes to read the long paragraph because he had to stop every few words to register in his mind what they meant and why they were being sent, and by the time he was finished, Jisung had already grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Minho wasn't sure how the Bang Chan that everyone loved found his instagram, considering that he had three followers—Jisung, Jisung's mum, and the account Jisung's mum had made to post pictures of Jisung's baby brother—and his name was quite common. Heck, just in his science class, there were five Minhos, three of them being Lees also.

His username was lminho98, which wasn't the most creative username, but he didn't really care. His only concern was the fact that Jisung had stolen his phone to post another photo of Minho's nails. The boy wanted to start 11th grade off with a new fresh start and Bang Chan finding out that he painted his nails wasn't going to end well... unless—

bangchan97: hello the lee minho who likes dancing !! i know this may be kind of scary and just unusual but i found out that one of my friends said and did some mean things to you and i feel that i should be the one apologising. their behaviour was completely unacceptable & you should NOT be shunned for being true to yourself. i truly hope you will be able to forgive them. also, i saw your newest post and i think that your nails are really pretty :)

Well, that was a first. Minho stared up at the bathroom door and then back at his phone, about to start chewing on his nails out of habit but stopped himself before he could ruin them. He had not expected Bang Chan to apologise for something that Kim Woojin had done. They didn't even seem like friends, so why would Chan even go out of the way to apologise for him? But again, it wasn't like Minho knew anything about him.

He contemplated on answering back but decided in the end to just leave it on read and opened up his mum's messages and replied with a lazy 'I'll be home tomorrow, didn't have my phone with me'.

He dreaded July the eight.


End file.
